My Friend Mr Wonka
by SongsofPsyche1945
Summary: Charlie notices some strange things about his new friend Mr. Wonka, and does his best to remain supportive. (trigger warning: self-harm, panic attacks)
1. Chapter 1

This is a little drabble I came up with after watching the movie. I love that time Burton gave Willy Wonka a backstory, and a traumatic on at that (perfectly fitting for him, and for Johnny Depp). Willy Wonka as a character himself is fascinating. He has so many eccentricities, like; how he makes candy primarily for children but seems scared home them, how socially awkward he is with his guests, and how he cant seem to say the word "parents". Amongst all the characters, he seems the most psychologically damaged out of the bunch. I wish Burton could have delved more into it, given him more reasons to hate his father, more reasons to isolate himself from people. Shown more how the effects of isolation, and what they can do to a person. These are my thoughts, from the viewpoint of Charlie Bucket, of course.

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Charlie had never had a friend before he moved to the factory. Being the poorest boy in school had it's setbacks. Charlie had always longed for a friend, someone he could talk to, bounce ideas off of, and generally do friendly things with. Now that he was working with Mr. Wonka, he considered the candymaker his closest friend (other than his dad, and Grandpa Joe and those were family members so they didn't count). As much as Charlie liked Mr. Wonka, there were some odd moments during the day, where Willy would freeze, his lips would twitch, like he had just eaten a Statue Saltine (A new kind of cracker there were inventing made to make people motionless for several minutes). At first, Charlie would try everything he could to bring Mr. Wonka back to the present: waving his hand in front of his face, saying his name loudly, shaking his shoulders, but his attempts only seemed to make things worse. Eventually, after trail and error, Charlie learned how to deal with these episodes by just waiting them out. Mr. Wonka would find his way back, blink a few times than carry on like nothing every happened. Charlie always had a cup of water ready for him, for when he came back to the present.

Charlie kept a mental list of these moments, and what happened before them, trying to find patters. And he did. The one think that always sent Mr. Wonka back into a flashback was being touched. A tap on the shoulder, a nudge of the arm, handshakes, hugs, accidental brushes all seemed to be major triggers. Charlie learned this quickly, and did his best to make things comfortable for his new friend.

Charlie new Mr. Wonka had lived by himself for a very long time, and adjusting to all these new people—Charlie's Family—was difficult. It took several weeks of constant inviting to get him to come over for dinner. One evening –after a failed attempt at asking him to dinner—Charlie, and his family sat beofre a large feast of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, tomato soup, salad, bread, green beans (no cabbages whatsoever), and they were just about to say grace when they heard a knock at the door. Charlie's mom stood up, walked to the door and opened it to reveal non other than Mr. Wonka himself. He smiled at her.

"Good evening, Charlie invited me over for dinner. I apologize for being so late." He said

Mrs. Bucket smiled (she knew Charlie had been asking for weeks) "Of course, you are always welcome here." She said, and the she waved him inside.

Mr. Wonka smiled nervously at the seven pairs of eyes staring at him, and then he took off his hat and coat.

"Hello, Charlie's family." He said

"Hello Mr. Wonka." The family replied.

Mr. Wonka smiled at them, and Charlie saw his hands shaking before he balled them into fists.

"Here, you can sit next to Charlie and Grandpa Joe." Mrs. Bucket said, ushering him to his seat. Mr. Wonka sat down, and offered Charlie a smile.

"It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka." Charlie said.

"I just saw you an hour ago." Mr. Wonka replied.

The family settled again, and prepared for grace. Mr. Bucket took Mrs. Bucket's hand, who took Grandma Josephine's, who too Grandpa George's, who took Grandma Georgina's, who took Grandpa Joe's hand. Grandpa Joe offered his hand to Mr. Wonka, who hesitated before taking it lightly with his gloved hand. Mr. Wonka turned to Charlie, who gave him a smile before offering his hand. Mr. Wonka placed his hand, light as a feather on Charlie's. Then Mr. Bucket said grace. As soon as grace was over, Mr. Wonka took his hands and crossed his arms over his chest. He bit his lip, and then went as still as a statue, once again carried away by a memory. Mr. And Mrs. Bucket exchanged glances. Grandpas Joe, who had witnessed this behavior before during the factory tour turned to Charlie.

"Is he alright?"

Charlie nodded his head,

"He's okay. Just give him a minute and he'll come back." He said, then he stood up and got a glass of water from the sink. He held it until Mr. Wonka blinked a few times, shook his head a little and smiled at them (totally unaware that they were all staring).

"Dinner! How Marvelous!" He exclaimed

"Here, drink this first." Charlie said, handing him the glass of water (what he always said and did after one of these episodes).

Mr. Wonka took the glass with a shaky hand.

"Thank you, Charlie." He said. He took a sip, like nothing out of the ordinary every happened. After that dinner proceed as normal, like nothing ever happened.

That night, Grandpa Joe was sitting down next to the fire, smoking his pipe and watching the flames. Charlie sat down next to him.

"You know, Charlie. I remember a time when Willy Wonka had a family." He said, still staring into the fire.

"A family? I thought he never had one." Charlie answered, looking up at his Grandpa.

"Well, I had quite forgotten about them until I saw Mr. Wonka at dinner and all of sudden I remembered. Little Sam Wonka. And Annie Wonka. Together the three of them ran the shop, before the factory was built."

"Sam and Annie? He's never said anything about them." Charlie said

Grandpa Joe shook his head, "It's a sad story, Charlie. I've been thinking about it all night, and the more I think about it, the more it makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

Grandpa Joe shuddered in his seat, "It would be better to forget, I think." He whispered.

"Please, tell me." Charlie asked

"She was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen; long curly red hair, and a smile that seemed to glow from the inside, and she was his favorite customer. At first she would come in with her friends, and then as they got to know each other everyday. They would sit for hours over chocolate malts, talking about everything. It was one of the few times I ever saw him truly smile. It wasn't long until they were in love. It was a magical time, his loved seeped into his creations, making them even more delicious than they already were. When-."

"Charlie! It is well past your bedtime, come on." Charlie's mother called gently from the other room.

Grandpa Joe smiled, "I'll continue the story tomorrow, Charlie."

"Okay, goodnight Grandpa Joe."

"Goodnight Charlie."

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The next day, Charlie and Mr. Wonka were working in the inventing room, each at their own station, each working of their own creation. Charlie was doing an exciting experiment to see how fizzy lifting drinks mixed with chocolate performed (so far, they just made him burp a lot). After an half an hour or, Mr. Wonka walked over to Charlie to see what he was up to.

"How are the chocolates coming along, Charlie?" He asked

"Excellent, batch #3 made me float, but just 3 inches off the ground. This is batch four, I added more essence of cloud and a quarter cup of the fizzing lifting serum. I think I'm getting closer to a breakthrough." Charlie answered.

Mr. Wonka smiled.

"That's fantastic! Can I try one?" He asked

Charlie nodded his head, "They aren't perfect yet, but they are harmless. Go ahead"

Mr. Wonka smiled and popped one into his mouth. Nothing happened for a moment and then Mr. Wonka began floating. He floated for a few secound and they skyrocketed. Charlie barely managed to grab on to his hand as a failed attempt to keep him on the ground before they both were airborne.

"Burp! Burp! Burp!" Charlie shouted.

Mr. Wonka let out an incredible belch, and they both hit the floor hard.

"I guess they aren't entirely harmless" Charlie said apologetically. Mr. Wonka didn't seem to hear him though. He jerked his hand away from Charlie's and scuttled backwards, breathing hard. His eyes were blank as his head flinched left and right, caught up in another memory that hainted him. This time it was worse. He clutched his har and rocked back and forth, knees pulled up to his chest.

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked

Nothing.

"Mr. Wonka? Can you hear me?" He asked again.

Nothing.

This time Charlie know that waiting it out and a glass of water wasn't going to help.

Charlie watched him. He had to do something. Fast.

Quickly, he crawled over to Mr. Wonka and gently put his hand on his knees.

"Mr. Wonka, can you hear me? You have to come back now." He tried

Nothing.

Suddenly, Charlie had an idea. He started singing in a high, sweet voice, a song that his mother used to sing to him when he was young and afraid of the dark:

"Who can take a sunrise,

sprinkle it with dew.

Cover it with chocolate, and a miracle or two.

The candyman can.

Oh the candyman can,

Cause it mixes it with love,

And makes the world taste good."

After a few minutes, Mr. Wonka blinked and shook his head.

"Charlie?" He asked

"Yes. I'm here."

"I heard singing. I was in a terrible place, and then I followed the song and it lead me to you."

Charlie nodded his head. This was the first time Mr. Wonka had spoken anything at all about what he saw when he went away.

"Are you alright?" Charlie asked

Mr. Wonka nodded.

"I'll be okay...Good first attempt at the chocolate, maybe a little less fizzy lifting serum and more essence of cloud." He said briskly as he stood up stiffly, rubbing his left knee.

Charlie nodded his head, and from then on whenever Mr. Wonka seemed to drift away, all Charlie had to do to bring him back was to sing.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for all the views, favorites and follows! I'm loving it :)

WonkaSugoiCandies: Good question! This will be a multi-chapter story, right now I have written out most of my journal and it is in the progress of being typed.

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"Alright Charlie, where were we? Oh yes. Willy Wonka, and the Chocolate Shop and Annie. Like I said before, it wasn't long before they fell in love with each other. She was always by his side, laughing that wonderful laugh of hers." Grandpa Joe said, and then paused to take a sip of his tea.

"She sounds lovely." Charlie said

Grandpa Joe nodded, "Oh she was. She was kind, and caring, with eyes the color of milk chocolate. She brought out the best in people, Annie did. I remember the day they got married, the entire town was invited to the church and it was a whole day celebration. I had never seen anyone so happy before. Willy Wonka finally had someone to love, someone to call his family. I went to the library while you were at work yesterday, and look here I found an article from the day they married." Grandpa Joe said, and he handed Charlie an old newspaper clipping that showed a young Mr. Wonka smiling, and holding the hand of the most beautiful woman Charlie had ever seen.

"Wow." Charlie whispered

"Where-." Charlie started, but he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Charlie got up to answer it, and was greeted with a friendly Oompa Loompa.

"Is Mr. Wonka ready for me?" Charlie asked.

The Oompa Loompa smiled and gave him a thumbs up.

"Okay, hold on one minute." Charlie said, then he rushed to grab his pack.

"I'll finish telling you the story tonight, Charlie. Have a good Day." Grandpa Joe said as Charlie kissed him goodbye, and then he was on his way.

Another eccentricity Charlie noticed about Mr. Wonka was that he always wore gloves. Even when he wasn't working. They were always on. Charlie didn't know if it was because Mr. Wonka's father was a dentist and he wore gloves all the time or it was because of something else. The gloves were just another mystery to the mysterious candyman.

One day, they were working in the Pyro Lab, a somewhat dangerous room that involved a lot of fire. They were trying to find the right temperature for fire toffee, when a burst of flaming melted caramel leapt from the control fire onto Mr. Wonka's hands. Mr. Wonka yelped and jumped backwards swatting at the flames. The flames went out, but both of Mr. Wonka's hands, and the gloves were burnt. Charlie could see the raw red skin under the purple gloves.

"It's okay, I have a first aid kit here." Mr. Wonka said, and Charlie watched him as he struggled to open the kit with his burnt hands.

"Here, let me help you." Charlie said, taking the kit from him.

"it's okay, I can manage. Don't worry-." Mr. Wonka started and then stopped again as he winced at the burns.

"You're hurt. Please, let me help you." Charlie insisted.

Mr. Wonka froze, and bit his lip, thinking for a moment and then he nodded his head,

"Okay, just... I can't stand to see...nevermind." He muttered, and the he turned his head and closed his eyes.

Charlie paused, aware of the odd behavior but not wanting to make a big deal about it. He opened the first aid kit, and then gently pulled off the burnt gloves revealing pale, scared hands. Some scars looked accidental but others weren't. Jagged cuts spelled out one word over and over again: SAM, SAM, SAM, SAM, SAM. On his fingers, on the back of his hands, everywhere. Charlie looked up at Mr. Wonka's face and saw that his eyes were still closed, his head still turned, he looked ashamed of his hands. Ashamed that Charlie had to see them. Charlie didn't want him to feel ashamed, he didn't want him to feel like he had to hide anything from him. They were friends, they had to trust each other. Charlie wanted Mr. Wonka to trust him, because trust was the platform to all friendships. Mr. Wonka was never going to trust him though, if he thought Charlie was going to judge him for those scars. Charlie could see that they were old scars, and the only new wounds were the burns that just happened. Whatever had caused those scars happened a long time ago, and even though they were still there, the past would always be in the past.

"Mr. Wonka." Charlie said

Mr. Wonka stayed completely still.

"Mr. Wonka, look at me." Charlie said

He opened one eye, and then the other, and cast his eyes down, looking at the table.

" I think your hands are perfect, just the way they are." Charlie said.

Mr. Wonka nodded, but didn't say anything.

"My mother always told me to put the past behind me. We can't change it, but we can learn from it and that's the only thing that matters." He continued.

Charlie quickly cleaned and bandaged the burns,. When he was done, Mr. Wonka left the old gloves where they were and pulled out a pair of new purple gloves.

"I always keep an extra pair on me." He said, and then he pulled them on, hiding his scarred hands.

They continued working, but now there seemed to be a bit of tension between them. Mr. Wonka was oddly silent, and often Charlie would catch him staring at his gloves.

"He was my son." Mr. Wonka said, after about an hour of silence.

Charlie looked up from his work space, "Who?"

"Sam." He answered quietly.

Charlie walked over to Mr. Wonka and sat down next to him, well aware of this rare moment of vulnerability.

"What happened to him?" Charlie asked. He knew from Grandpa Joe's story that Mr. Wonka had married a woman named Annie, and Grandpa Joe had definitely mentioned someone names sam but he had never heard of Mr. Wonka having a son. In fact, Mr. Wonka himself had admitted himself that he never had a family. Yet now, he was telling Charlie that he once had a son.

"He died." Mr. Wonka whispered softly

Charlie nodded, and he felt his eyes prick with tears.

"I'm sorry." He said

Mr. Wonka's eyes went blank for a moment, but then he shook his head.

"Your mother is right, the past is in the past." and he smiled that charming smile of his, and went back to work.

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"Alright...where were we? Oh yes, Willy Wonka and Annie had just gotten married." Grandpa Joe said that night, as they were drinking hot chocolate by the fire.

" It was a beautiful day, the entire town was invited. Everything was perfect. They were the sunshine of the town. When they walked down the street, everyone smiled and waved. Everyone was so happy that the brilliant candyman had finally gotten married, finally had a family of his very own." Grandpa Joe said, smiling at the memories.

"They sound wonderful." Charlie said, and he took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"And things were wonderful, for two whole years things were absolutely wonderful for the young couple. I remember now, one day I went into the shop and everything was decorated in blue! Blue chocolate, blueberry pies, blueberry ice cream, blue ribbons, blue balloons all saying "it's a boy!"  
Annie was going to have a baby boy. Oh, you should have seen the face of Willy Wonka when he found out he was going to be a father. It was like all his Christmases and all the birthdays had been combined into one. "

"Willy Wonka, a father? I can't imagine that." Charlie said, trying to picture the eccentric candymaker holding a baby. It was an odd image.

And suddenly the image of scarred hands popped into his head, and Charlie felt his heart sink. Grandpa Joe had been right, this story was not going to have a happy ending.

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	3. Chapter 3

The third thing Charlie noticed about his new candy partner was something that had perplexed him before, how Mr. Wonka was never able to say the word "parent" without struggling. Even though he had resolved things with his own father, he still shuddered and mumbled whenever he had to say the word, or heard someone else say it. Charlie tried his best to not say the P word, but it was difficult because he lived with his parents and sentences like "my parents would like you to come to dinner" or "my parents would like me home by 9" were so ordinary that Charlie would often forget. He was only 12, you know.

One afternoon, they were together in the inventing room, tinkering with hair toffee when Charlie suddenly remembered his mother's request that morning to ask Mr. Wonka if it was okay for her to start a small garden.

"Mister W, my parents would like to know if it's okay for them to start a small garden in the chocolate room" Charlie asked, and immediately after he said it he realized that he had done it again. He had said the P word. He watched as Mr. Wonka froze in place, looking like he had just eaten a Statue Saltine (for your enemies, watch them eat and freeze!). Then, Charlie saw a slight tremor in his right hand. Mr. Wonka's face went blank, his lip twitched.

"Mr. Wonka?"Charlie asked

Mr. Wonka then came out of it, shaking his head.

"Sorry, what was that?" He asked

This time Charlie chose his words more carefully, " Mrs. Bucket would like to know if she can start a garden. I think she misses it."

Mr. Wonka smiled, "Of course, in fact—she can have her own plot in the vegetable room. I'll have an Oompa Loompa show her."

That was the other thing, he never, or very rarely, spoke with his parents at all. He always ordered an Oompa Loompa.

Mr. Wonka then paused, "Since when do you call your own mother Mrs. Bucket?"

He had no trouble with words like mother or father, or mom or dad or ma and pa. Just parents.

Charlie sighed, and then decided it was time to resolve this entire parents issue.

"Well," Charlie said, trying to choose his words carefully.

"I have noticed that when someone says the P word. It makes you upset. I don't want to make you upset, so I'm trying to use different words." He answered honestly.

Mr. Wonka scrunched his nose, "The P word?"

"You know...p-a-r-e-n-t-s"

Mr. Wonka's mouth made a perfect I, and he blushed red fiercely.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I didn't realize I was doing it. I'll try to stop."

Charlie shook his head, this wasn't the reaction he wanted! He wanted to help. Mr. Wonka always did this, especially when he was around Charlie. He always tried to his these reactions, and he always apologized. But he never opened up to Charlie about why he reacted like he did. Charlie didn't mind not knowing, everyone was allowed to keep their secrets. He just wanted to help."

"What if we didn't say that word anymore, what if we said another word that meant the same thing as that word?" Charlie asked

Mr. Wonka nodded, "That might work."

"How about Snickerdoodles?" Charlie suggested and he giggled a little. This made Mr. Wonka smile.

"Alright, we could try that." He answered

They smiled at each other.

"Let's go get your snickerdoodles a garden." Mr. Wonka said, standing up and grabbing his cane.

Charlie smiled and grabbed his coat.

Maybe he did really help this time.

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That evening, Charlie settled himself down next to Grandpa Joe to continue listening to the story of Willy Wonka and Annie.

"Where were we, Charlie?" Grandpa Joe asked

"Annie had just told Mr. Wonka that she was going to have a baby."

"Oh yes. The day the baby was born, it was just about the worst snowstorm of the century. Mr. Wonka closed down the entire shop so he could be there with Annie."

"Mr. Wonka told me that Sam has passed away." Charlie said

Grandpa Joe raised his eyebrows, "He did?"

"Yes. The day before yesterday."

"He is right of course. But that comes later in the story. A lot of us thought that she and the baby weren't going to make it, because of the storm but only 10 hours after she went into labor she gave birth to a healthy, happy baby boy."

"Named Sam."

"Yes. Named Sam."

"People from all over town sent baskets of fruit, cheese, candy, Grandma Josephine baked them a pie. The candy shop was closed for a week. It seemed like things couldn't get any happier." Grandpa Joe smiled, but his smile was sad.

"If only they had stayed happy."

"What happened next?"

"That Charlie, is for tomorrow night. Now it's time for bed. Go on, brush your teeth." Grandpa Joe ushered him away with his hands and Charlie both sad that that story was ending and anxious to hear more stood up to obey his grandfather.

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Thanks for reading, more to come tomorrow. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

There was still quite of the factory that Charlie hadn't seen yet, and most of their afternoons were spent either in the inventing room or touring the factory. Currently, the factory had 512 and a half rooms, and they were expanding everyday. Even thought Charlie had been there for almost a year, he had only seen 26 out of the 512 rooms. Mr. Wonka always carried around his cane with him whenever he went. Charlie had realized some time ago that the cane itself was full of candy—it was an actual candy cane—and every time he saw it, it made him smile. It also made him wonder why Mr. Wonka carried it around with him in the first place. Was he using it to just be eccentric, or did he actually need it? What had happened? Occasionally, when they were working in the lab together and Mr. Wonka needed to grab something quick, he would walk without the cane, but it was only for distances and never for long. Like many of his secrets, he never talked about the cane. Sometimes, when deep in thought, Mr. Wonka would absent mindedly rub his left leg but that was it. Charlie knew by now that Mr. Wonka was reluctant to talk about his past—the past that Grandpa Joe was telling Charlie in secret.

It was an early Wednesday afternoon, and Charlie and Mr. Wonka were in the glass elevator on their way to the Frozen Rooms, where all kinds of frozen treats and candies were made.

"We make popping popsicles, never melting ice cream, fizzy frozen pops, fire breathing ice cubes and much more. "Mr. Wonka said a smile, as he pointed to the rooms.

Charlie smiled, "they all sound wonderful."

"My favorite room is this one though, it's the room where we keep the popsicle liquid before it become popsicles. It has to be churned—by waterfall, of course- and then it pours into this room where it is instantly frozen. You'll see in just a minute, it is so much fun." Mr. Wonka said with a smile, bouncing on his feet.

The elevator opened up with a ding, they walked out to a large door labeled "Frozen Popsicle Pools"

Mr. Wonka opened the door and they walked inside. Charlie couldn't help but smile at what he saw: inside were giant frozen pools, each a different color. And on top of them, it little skate were Oompa Loompas skating around. They smiled and waved as Mr. Wonka and Charlie walked carefully (it was very slippery) down towards the first pool, which was orange.

The Oompa Loompas saw them and waved. A few walked over and handed Charlie a pair of skates.

Charlie looked at Mr. Wonka, "May I?"

"Of course, Charlie. I find that skating really improves the favor."

Charlie smiled, walked over to a bench and quickly put the skates on.

Soon, he was wobbling over the frozen popsicle juice hooting and laughing with the Oompa Loompas as they pushed him a long. When he turned around, he expected to see Mr. Wonka right behind him, but to his surprise, the candyman was on the sidelines jumping and cheering them along but not skating. Charlie skated over to him.

"Come on, Mister W the ice is great!"

"Oh Charlie, I couldn't possibly." Mr. Wonka said, shaking his head.

"Please? It'll be so much more fun with you."

Mr. Wonka shook his head again.

"I'm sorry." He said, and his hands twisted on his cane.

"That's okay." Charlie said, and the he skated off with the oompa loompas. He had quite a lot of fun but every now and then he looked over to see Mr. Wonka and saw him staring out into nothing, face blank, lost in his own thought.

Later that day, they were sitting quietly together having their afternoon cup of hot chocolate. Mr. Wonka had been oddly quiet after the skating rink, lost in his own thoughts and jumping at unexpected noises. Charlie could tell he was battling something inside his head, and hoped that with enough support Mr. Wonka would finally feel comfortable to open up to Charlie about what he was thinking.

"Are you happy here, Charlie?" He finally asked

Charlie nodded his head, "Oh yes, Mr. Wonka. Everyday is an adventure here." Charlie replied cheerfully.

Mr. Wonka smiled, "Good, very good."

He fell silent again, and ran his right hand over the top of his left.

"You remind me of him, sometimes." He said

"Of Sam?" Charlie asked

Mr. Wonka nodded, "Is it alright if I talk about him sometimes?"

Charlie nodded, "Of course, Mr. Wonka."

Mr. Wonka smiled, and then lapsed back into silence. Sipping his cocoa quietly and staring off over Charlie's head.

This was one of his rare moods, one that Charlie wasn't quite sure how to navigate. Charlie knew that Mr. Wonka wanted to be open with him, and that he probably needed somebody to talk after all these years of being with just the Oompa Loompas, but something was holding him back. Maybe, Charlie thought, maybe it would help if he asked the right questions. This was the third day in row that Mr. Wonka had mentioned his son, maybe this was his own way of telling Charlie he was ready to talk about him.

"He must have loved it here." Charlie said

Mr. Wonka nodded silently.

"Yes. We all did."

More silence, and then, "I haven't been able to skate properly since the accident." Mr. Wonka then said, before Charlie could say anything else.

Charlie looked up at him, "I'm sorry."

Mr. Wonka sighed, and then with shaking hands he leaned down and lifted up his pant leg, revealing wood instead of skin.

"What happened?" Charlie asked

Again, Mr. Wonka was quiet for a long time. Charlie sipped his cocoa patiently. He knew this was hard for him.

"We were building a new section of the factory, and it caught fire. Sam was inside. I tried to save him, but I couldn't get to him. My leg got trapped and...and... I was too late."

Slowly, very slowly Charlie reached his hand across the table and put it gently on top of Mr. Wonka's.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka. That's a terrible way to lose someone you love."

Mr. Wonka nodded his head, and then gently moved his hand away from Charlie's with a whispered "sorry".

"Does it hurt much?" Charlie asked, pointing to Mr. Wonka's leg

"Not anymore. I can be rather clumsy though, sometimes. The cane helps." Mr. Wonka said.

There was another beat of silence.

"I'm sorry, Charlie to burden you with such sad stories. Let's stop dwaddling in the past, and focus on the future. Licorice Jewelry, what do you think?" He said suddenly, bouncing back to his happy self.

Charlie nodded his head, "I think that's a brilliant idea."

For the rest of the day, they worked on idea, after idea, after idea. If Charlie noticed Mr. Wonka's slight limp, he didn't say anything. As grateful as he was that Mr. Wonka was opening up to him, he didn't want to push things too far. He was just glad that Mr. Wonka was finally starting to trust him.

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"The day Sam was born, it was just about the worst snowstorm of the century." Grandpa Joe continued his story from his armchair, in a whispered voice since it was well past Charlie's bedtime.

" Mr. Wonka closed down the entire shop so he could be there with Annie. A lot of thought that she and the baby weren't going to make it, because of the storm but only 10 hours after she went into labor she gave birth to a healthy, happy baby boy. People from all over town sent baskets of fruit, cheese, candy, Grandma Josephine baked them a pie. The candy shop was closed for a week."

Charlie smiled despite himself, he knew now from Mr. Wonka that this story ended in tradgdy.

"How was Mr. Wonka? Was he a good father?" Charlie asked, once again trying to picture the candyman holding a baby and cooing. Grandpa Joe nodded his head.

" Mr. Wonka was a proud father, always with a smile, always laughing. I think it was happiest I have ever seen him. Those were good years. Sam grew up in the shop with us, that's where he took his first steps, said his first words. My time flew and before we knew it, little Sam wasn't little anymore. 10 years passed and in a blink of an eye Sam wasn't a baby anymore, but a boy. A boy very much like you."

Charlie nodded, and Mr. Wonka's voice echoed through his head: you remind me of him.

" It was about this time that Mr. Wonka was building plans for his factory, and he was overrun with layouts and blueprints. He would often spend long nights in his office, working on the plans for his factory. And that's where the trouble started. You see, by then Wonka Candy was very popular, and there were other manufacturers; Slugworth,Peddington, Whackshire who desperately wanted Wonka's secrets. It was summer time. Annie had taken Sam to their house by the beach, said she needed to get away for a while, smell the sea air. Mr. Wonka had not gone with them, he stayed in the shop working later and later into the night. And that's when She showed up, Emily SLugworth. She would stay in the shop all day, flirting with Wonka, digging for secrets. At first, Mr. Wonka ignored her, but he soon fell under her spell."

"But what about Annie?" Charlie asked

"She didn't know. At least, not yet. I cannot explain to you what was happening in that man's mind, but believe me she had him wrapped around her finger. It was terrible to watch, and I was a coward for staying silent."

"Didn't Annie return?" Charlie asked

"Yes. And Mr. Wonka was bending over backwards to make sure his affair with Emily was kept secret from her. But Emily was one step ahead of him."

"What happened?"

"The day after Annie returned from their beach house, Emily Slugworth published an article in the paper admitting to their affair. The entire town knew about the scandal. Mr. Wonka banished Emily from the shop, but the damage was done. They were never the same after that day. Annie stayed with him out of loyalty to their marriage, but the love was gone. "

"How could he do such a thing?"Charlie asked

"I think he regrets it very much, Charlie. Sometimes you do something and regret it seconds after it is done. And honestly, it wasn't all his fault. He had been exploited by the enemy, Slugworth had succeeded in taking away the one thing he truly loved." Grandpa Joe replied.

"Oh no. What happened next?"

"Mr. Wonka went through with the plans to build the factory, and soon it was being built. It took almost two years for the entire factory to be finished. There was a grand celebration when the factory opened, with Mr. Wonka, Annie and Sam."

"They were still together?" Charlie asked

"Oh yes. The mutual love for Sam kept them together, but Annie and Mr. Wonka had grown apart. Annie had her own room in the factory, and she rarely left it. Sam and Mr. Wonka ran everything, from the processing line to the packaging line. And then, the unimaginable happened."

"What was that, Grandpa Joe? What happened?" Charlie asked, but deep down he knew. He knew because he had seen the scars on Mr. Wonka's hands, seen the cane and his very heart hurt. But he had to hear it.

Grandpa shook his head.

"It's too late for such sad stories. Go to bed, Charlie. I'll tell you tomorrow night."

Charlie dreamed that night of Annie, drifting through the factory searching, and searching, and searching for her baby boy.

888

Thank you for all the favorites, follows and reviews. More to come soon!


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Charlie was looking at the glass elevator. There were so many buttons! Too many to count, and some titled the most strange and mysterious things like The Cat Room, Bacteria, Topless Turtles, and Swagathor's Lair. The strangest one of all though, the one that caught Charlie's eye was the one that he had paid no attention to before, one that was labeled "Annie's Room". Charlie stared at it, then jumped when he heard footsteps approaching. It was just Mr. Wonka though, ready for their daily tour of the factory.

"Good morning, sunshine! Where would you like to go today?" Mr. Wonka asked brightly, smiling at Charlie.

As much as Charlie wanted to go to the room labeled Topless Turtles (out of pure curiosity), he pointed to the button he had seen before labeled "Annie's Room".

The little color that was in Mr. Wonka's face faded, and he bit his lip.

"That's one of my personal rooms, Charlie. No magic In that one." He answered.

"Oh."

"You can pick any other room though." Mr. Wonka prompted

Disappointed, Charlie quickly picked "The Cat Room" and they were off.

Inside the elevator, there was tense silence. Charlie was debating whether he should tell Mr. Wonka he knew about Annie or not. Finally, he decided it would be best to not let Mr. Wonka know about Grandpa Joe's storytimes and let him tell him on his own accord. He didn't want Mr. Wonka thinking he was snooping behind his back.

"Who was she?" Charlie asked, hoping to prompt Mr. Wonka into telling him, and finishing Grandpa Joe's story.

Mr. Wonka paused again, his eyes went vacant for a minute.

"My wife." He finally answered in a faint whisper.

"Or...she was my wife. She...passed away a year after Sam died."

"I'm so sorry" Charlie said, and then he reached out and took Mr. Wonka's gloved hand.

"Were you all alone, these past ten years?" He asked

Mr. Wonka moved his hand away from Charlie's.

"Not entirely alone. I had the Oompa Loompas." He answered softly.

Charlie nodded his head.

"You're not alone anymore though, you have me and my family." Charlie added

Mr. Wonka gave him a small smile.

"That, I do."

Then his face went blank again, and he froze, eyes staring at an unknown spot as he was dragged into another flashback. His hands balled into fists and -

DING.

The elevator made them both jump as they arrived at The Cat Room.

"Okay! Let's go see some kitties!"

888

That night, Charlie eagerly curled up in a blanket next to Grandpa Joe, waiting to hear the end of the story.

"There was a fire in the factory, in the west wing. Sam had gone in, trying to save the workers but he didn't make it. I remember that day, I had held Mr. Wonka back myself, trying to stop him from going into the inferno but he did, to save Sam. When the firefighters pulled them out, Mr. Wonka was barely alive but, Sam was gone."

Charlie wiped the tears away from his face.

"And what about Annie?" He asked

"Surprisingly, the death of their son brought them together. Mr. Wonka had been injured in the fire, and she nursed him back to health. He lost part of his leg, you know. That's why he carries a cane with him. She would patiently walk him down the hallways of the factory, helping him learn how to walk again. She was very patient with him. I remember, it took him a long time to learn how to walk, and many a times I would hear him cursing as he fell. I think that's the one thing he hated the most, was the falling. Things got better though, in time. After Mr. Wonka had fully recovered we would see them walking down the street together in the evening, hand in hand. Sometimes they were silent, other times they were talking. For a short time, anyway."

"What do you mean, Grandpa?"

"About a year after Sam's death, Annie died. No one was sure. Some said it was because of a broken heart, some said she was sick for a long time. The funeral was small, and quiet. I remember Mr. Wonka tried to say a few words, but he was unable. The rest of us spoke about her though. It was only a few weeks after that Wonka closed the factory for good."

"Because of the spies?" Charlie asked

"Yes. Within a span of two years he had lost everything that he had loved. The chocolate factory was all he had left, he couldn't stand to lose that too.."

"Poor Mr. Wonka."

"Yes indeed. The day that he closed the factory, I didn't just lose my job. He was never the same after that, my friend Mr. Wonka was gone forever."

8888

Thank you all for reading, and for the lovely reviews! Please let me know what you think!


	6. Epilogue (for real this time!)

Here is the real ending! Sorry for the mix up, how embarrassing :-/

888

They were sitting around the table again, Charlie looked around at his family; his mother, his father, his grandparents and felt his heart swell with the love he had for his family. He nervously wrung his hands together. They were waiting for the knock on the door, a knock from Mr. Wonka indicating that he was ready to join them for dinner. It had been a few weeks since Grandpa Joe had finished his story, and the past couple of days had been slightly awkward because now that Charlie knew the truth he couldn't help but look at Mr. Wonka differently. Mr. Wonka seemed to notice the shift in atmosphere too, and had been more reserved than ever. Tonight though, Charlie hoped to change that.

Charlie jumped slightly when he heard the knock. Mr. Wonka had finally arrived. He smiled at them nervously, like he always did when he arrived for dinner.

"Hello, Charlie's family." He said, giving them a slight wave with his gloved hands.

"Hello Mr. Wonka." Came the chorused reply.

Mr. Wonka sat down in his usual spot between Charlie and Grandpa Joe.

Charlie looked at Grandpa Joe, and he winked at him. He had patiently listened to Charlie as he had practiced his speech and was almost as excited as he was.

Charlie then looked at Mr. Wonka.

"Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked

"Yes Charlie." He replied

"We were wondering-I was wondering if I could ask you something?"

"Sure, Charlie."

Charlie took a deep breath, "I know about Annie and Sam. Grandpa Joe told me what happened, and I am really sorry that happened to you. No one should go through that kind of heartbreak."

Mr. Wonka's face paled.

"You knew?" He turned to Grandpa Joe, "You told?"

Grandpa Joe just nodded his head.

"Everything?" Mr. Wonka whispered.

Grandpa Joe nodded again.

"But it's okay, Mr. Wonka. Because you have us now, we are your family. That is, if you'd like us to be?" Charlie asked, looking up at his friend.

Mr. Wonka was silent for ten whole seconds, his hands trembled, his eyes blank but then, he started to smile.

"Yes, Charlie. I would like that very much." He said, and then he smiled the first true smile Charlie had seen.

Charlie extended his hand, "We love you, Mr. Wonka and we are so happy to be here with you."

Mr. Wonka took his hand, this time without hesitation.

"Me too."

Grandpa Joe then raised his glass in a toast.

"To family, and to my friend, Mr. Wonka" he said with a smile.

Charlie and the others raised their glasses.

"To family!"

THE END

Thank you all so much for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

My dearest, Readers

I hate Mufasa he always gets what he wants someday, he will get what he deserves. Oh how I wish he would turn into a festering bucket of moldy pie. Hmmmmm pie, I like pie, all kinds; apple, cherry, blackberry, 3.14...pie is good. Not moldy pie. That's bad. Really bad. The worst, really. I mean, who would even want to eat moldy pie anyway? The only person who I know who would enjoy moldy pie would be Draco Malfoy. Mostly because he deserves it, but who knows? He might like it. He lives in Slytherin, and it's all dark and damp down there. Everything gets moldy super fast at Hogwarts. Mufasa would definitely be in Slytherin, the slimy bastard.

There is a rock in my shoe, and bird on my head. One day they had a disagreement and I ended up with a boulder on my belly. I have a pierced belly button. It's my dirty secret. No one knows about it. Well, I guess you guys know about it. I have a story to tell you. Once upon a time there was a kitten in a very small cage. The kitten grew, the cage didn't.

The end.

Wasn't that wonderful? No, no, no, no it was terrible. I am awful at telling good stories. I know who tells good stories though, and that person is Martha Stewart. She went to prison, you know? I bet she knows how to make a really good prison cheesecake. She could even make it all fancy with prison flowers, and prison icing. Going to prison would be so scary, I would be afraid of the sleepwalkers. Or if I sleepwalked, they would all be afraid of me. One night I slept walked right out of bed into the garage and screamed because I thought buzz lightyear was outside trying to murder us all. Evil Buzz Lightyear would be incredibly terrifying and also quite hilarious.

You know who else would be an amazing super villian? A secret weapon, an immigrant who's not afraid to step in? Who's constantly confusing and confounding the British henchmen? Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. Also known as LAFAYETTE! The Lancelot of the Revolution! He's America's favorite fighting Frenchman! LAFAYETTE! LAFAYETTE! Okay I got a little distracted, I'm listening to Hamilton right now. I love Hamilton. It's weird that it's a rap musical about one of America's founding fathers, but I think that's also what makes it awesome. I will never look at the ten dollar bill (the ten dollar, founding father without a father, got a lot smarter by working a lot harder) the same way again (and things will never be the same...okay okay I'm stopping now). I wrote that all from memory, BTW. I'm not obsessed with Hamilton. No I am not!

I'M NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!

Okay, maybe I am a little bit.

Children gain valuable information by learning schemes such as banging, shaking, and mouthing objects. Schemes help children discover how objects are best used and how to use objects in new and interesting ways. Young infants use a variety of simple schemes such as mouthing, banging, handling, grasping and reaching to discover the properties of objects. IE: hard things such as blocks, soft things such as cotton balls, noisy things such as rattles and sticky things such as a piece of tape. Infants practice adapting and combining schemes until they perfect an approach that works for them. I copied and pasted that from my textbook. Maybe one day someone will google learning schemes and this letter will pop up and then they will be forced to read my fanfiction. MUAHAHAHAHA my evil plan is almost complete!

I'm rockin', rockin' and rollin', down to the beach I'm strolling, the seagulls poke at my head NOT FUN. I said seagulls, mmmmm stop it now! That is my elevator song. I sing it in the elevator with strangers to make them feel uncomfortable. I also dance. It's very entertaining.

Did any of that make sense? I bet not. It doesn't even make sense to me, and where is the real chapter anyway? You probally think that I am insane, and you are not wrong. But trust me, this all had a point and that point was to trick you into believing that this was the actual next chapter and also that I hate Mufasa. So my actual point is that I just wanted to wish you all a very happy APRIL FOOL'S!

Much love,

SongsofPsyche

P.s who's the best, c'est moi.

Sorry...sorry I'll stop now.

(Nevvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr)


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